Chapter 21
AVA
After five straight hours of reading from textbooks, my brain feels like mush.
So, I decide to venture outside my room for the first time since breakfast, stepping out into the hall to find the place empty.
I’m not even sure when it cleared out– just that at some point, Raf’s drumming faded to nothing, and Wes and Ford’s bickering over some video game they were playing died out.
A wave of dizziness hits as soon as I straighten, like all the stored-up tension in my body is rebounding through my spine.
I wobble, then do a quick inventory. I haven’t eaten since Raf’s French toast, and I’ve crushed three coffees that Wes delivered to my room at random intervals throughout the morning.
If that’s not a recipe for a minor mental break, I don’t know what is.
I move on autopilot through the living room, shoving my feet into a battered pair of sneakers.
The usual stretch of chaos– empty beer bottles, discarded hoodies, gaming controllers– is all in its place, except for the hollow silence where the Kings are supposed to be.
That alone is enough to make the apartment feel wrong. Like it’s missing a pulse.
At the door, I pause, considering whether I should go to the library and keep studying.
I suppose I could just wander aimlessly through campus like all the other co-eds fighting a hangover after a boathouse party.
But when my hand closes around the doorknob, I already know what I really want– to find Bryce.
It’s the easiest choice in the world.
I descend the stairs to the second floor, then make my way to his dorm room, knocking on the door. He doesn’t answer, so I dig out my phone to shoot him a text.
Are you dead, or just ghosting me? I need a break from this hellscape.
His reply pings back in seconds.
On the roof.
I respond that I’m on my way, then set off across campus, climbing the rusty old ladder up to meet him.
I find Bryce sitting on the ledge in the center of the roof, wearing a raggedy old hoodie and a pair of running shorts, his platinum hair even messier than usual. I throw up an awkward little wave when we lock eyes, then trudge across the roof to join him.
“Aren’t you cold?” I ask, gesturing to his bare legs.
He shrugs, hands buried deep in the front pocket of his hoodie. “I’m cold-blooded.”
I suppress a shiver, tugging my sweater sleeves over my hands as I sink down beside him on the ledge.
“So,” he starts, pale eyes flicking up to mine. “Did you do it?”
I blink. “Do what?”
He rolls his eyes, then makes a popping noise with his thumb in his mouth, the implication clear.
A flush creeps up my neck. I hesitate, averting my eyes as I reply, “Yeah.”
He whistles, low and soft. “All three, or just…?”
“Raf,” I say, cheeks heating. “But… then also Ford. And Wes. Not all at once.” I pause. “Actually, yes, all at once. But not, like, in me.”
“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” he laughs, waving me off. Then he glances away, features tightening up in a weirdly tender way. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I shrug, picking at the frayed seam of my jeans. “Why?”
He cocks a brow. “Are you kidding?”
I heave a sigh, turning so I’m facing him fully, drawing my knees up into my chest. “Honestly, it was kinda… liberating? Like, I did it because I wanted to. They didn’t force me.”
I went into last night fully aware of what I was about to do, anticipating the inevitable mental spiral afterwards.
But then it just… didn’t happen. After the initial pain, the sex was good.
Better than good, honestly. It was hot as hell, having my body worshipped by the three sexiest guys on campus.
Part of me knows I should feel ashamed, or used, or degraded by the whole thing, but instead I almost feel powerful. Like I’m finally embracing parts of myself I used to try to hide, stepping into my sexuality and owning it.
Bryce considers for a long moment, studying my face. Then he gives a tiny nod. “I’m not judging. Seriously.” He hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I just… we both know what those guys are capable of. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You mean any more than they’ve already hurt me?” I scoff bitterly. “I just slept with them. There was no emotion involved.”
Bryce gives me a look like he doesn’t buy that for a second. I’m still not sure if I fully do, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
“Seriously,” I insist, nudging him with my foot. “I needed to lose my virginity to get the Dollhouse off my back, and Raf’s hot.”
He narrows his eyes on me, cocking his head. “Who are you and what have you done with sweet little Ava?”
“She’s fully grown now and sexually active,” I reply, lifting my chin.
“Love that for you,” he says, cracking a smile. “But… does this mean the revolution’s over?”
I flinch back, scrunching my nose. “No way, it’s just getting started. I’ve figured some things out, and now I know exactly how to put my plan into action.”
He instantly perks up. “Well shit, let’s hear it.” He leans in, then holds up a finger. “But first…” He fumbles in his hoodie pocket, producing a joint and a lighter. “This conversation is going to be a thousand percent better if we’re stoned.”
I snort a laugh. “Thought you were trying to cut back?”
“I am. I only smoke on special occasions.” He sticks the joint between his lips, lights up, and takes a long pull before offering it to me.
I take it, inhaling slow. It burns a little as the smoke fills my lungs, but that’s part of the comfort– like a tiny, private rebellion. I hold it in, then exhale, watching the smoke feather in the air before passing the joint back over.
“Okay,” Bryce says, already grinning. “Tell me your evil scheme.”
“It’s not evil,” I protest. “It’s just… payback.”
He waves me off. “Tomato, tomahto. Now spill, woman.”
A twinge of pain flares between my thighs as I hug my knees to my chest, staring out at the gray sky hanging low over campus.
“So, here’s the thing. I realized, after all this, that none of them are actually in control.
They just act like they are. But they’ve all got weaknesses, all want something different. ”
“Go on,” Bryce encourages with a nod.
I tick them off on my fingers, one by one.
“Wes wants to be accepted. Chosen. He’s like a puppy who spent his whole life being kicked, and now he’ll do anything to be loved.
” I glance sideways. “Raf wants control. It’s his entire personality, he needs to dominate every situation, and if he loses that, even for a second, he goes nuclear.
” I pause, wetting my lips with my tongue.
“Ford’s the wildcard I’m still trying to figure out.
I don’t even know if he actually feels anything, except maybe loyalty to the others. He’s basically chaos in human form.”
Bryce’s eyes get that bright, laser-focused look that means he’s hanging on every word. “So how do you use that?”
My lips curve into a slow smile. “By giving them exactly what they want. Wes wants to be chosen? I’ll make him think he is.
Then pull the rug out from under him at the perfect moment.
Raf wants control? Fine, let him think he has it.
Then rip it away when it’ll hurt most. Ford…
” I trail off, shrugging. “He’s tricky. Maybe the only way to get to him is through the others.
Or maybe I just need to turn his own pranks against him. ”
Bryce passes the joint back over to me. “That’s… wow.”
“What?” I ask, taking a puff.
He stares at me like I’m a magician who just unveiled a trick. “That’s genuinely diabolical.”
I grin, flicking my hair over a shoulder. “Thank you.”
“But also–” he holds up a hand. “You know I’m on your side, right? I just want you to be careful. Sometimes when you start playing games, it’s easy to forget which ones are real and which ones you made up.”
I nod, taking another slow drag off the joint. “I know. I’ll be careful.”
He nudges me with his knee. “You gonna keep sleeping with them?”
I blow out a cloud of smoke, then laugh. “Probably. Is that bad?”
“Depends,” he says, snatching the joint from my fingers. “If you’re doing it because you want to, go wild. If you’re doing it because you think you have to, well…”
I take a second to actually consider it. “I want to. I mean, I enjoyed it. And it was strangely empowering, having them all over me like that.”
He chuckles as he takes another hit. “Revenge sex with three sociopaths. Sounds hot.”
I giggle, a little giddy from the THC.
“Just don’t get pregnant,” he adds.
I grimace, shaking my head. “Definitely not. I’ve got the implant.” I tap the inside of my bicep in demonstration. “A birthday gift from my mom when I turned sixteen.”
“Weird,” he snorts.
“Tell me about it,” I mutter.
Bryce sighs, tossing the roach of the joint onto the roof and grinding it out with his shoe. “Can’t believe my little Aves is all grown up,” he says with a smile, then squints at me. “Even if you still look like a Girl Scout.”
“Hey,” I protest. “Girl Scouts can be vicious, have you seen them during cookie season?”
We both laugh, and for a second, all the pressure and anxiety and suffocating self-doubt evaporates.
Sitting here, I don’t have to be the new girl, or the Dollhouse escapee, or even the girl the Kings want to ruin.
I can just be Ava, a college student sitting on a rooftop with her best friend, plotting crimes against humanity and giggling about it.
“So,” Bryce says slyly, lowering his gaze. “Are you gonna tell me about last night, or what?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, now you want details?”
He leans back on his palms. “I always wanted the details, I just needed to make sure you were okay first.” He smirks, inclining his chin. “Lay it on me, babe.”
I smirk back at him, then start talking. Not the sanitized version, or the one I’d spin for a therapist, but the real, messy, mind-blowingly hot truth. He listens, making faces and asking rude questions, occasionally howling with laughter.
We stay up there for a while, just trading stories and sharing secrets and plotting out the next phase of the revolution. It’s the best I’ve felt in weeks. And when we finally climb down, the world doesn’t look any different, but my view of it does.
I know what I want– revenge against the Kings, freedom from this godforsaken place– and for once, it actually feels like I might have a shot at getting it.